As Tears Go By
by Xxxiiiooo
Summary: Sequel to "Boots of Spanish Leather."
1. Chapter 1

_Preface_

"Please babe, don't do this," he begged his voice breaking.

Tara crossed her arms in front of her. She looked away from him trying to contain her emotions as much as possible.

"It's too late, Jax. It's simply too late. Too much has happened. Too much time has passed."

She walked to the nearest window and saw people walking around the grounds. They couldn't see her given that she was in the farthest corner of the massive mansion.

"Tara, you and I are supposed to be endgame," she heard him say behind her.

Tara leaned her head on the window as she saw Ann fuss with Alfred probably barking orders. This would be her life in a few days, she thought.

Goosebumps rose in her arms as she felt Jax behind her.

"Jax," she whispered.

He slowly turned her around until they were facing one another.

"You should go," she whispered.

He circled his arms around her waist and pulled her close. "Do you want me to go?" he asked sincerely, his blue eyes looking deeply into her green ones.

"Please don't do this, Jax." Her hands rested on his chest.

"Don't do what, exactly?" he asked his voice becoming huskier. He took one of his hands and tilted her face upward. He looked into her eyes for a moment before leaning down and placing the softest of kisses on her lips. He pulled away and looked into her eyes. "Did you feel that, babe?"

Tara felt a few of her tears roll down her cheeks. She nodded as she closed her eyes. She felt his lips on face, kissing her tears away.

"I love you, Tara," he said between kisses. "I never stopped loving you. I will never stop loving you." He glazed his lips among hers.

This time she welcomed them. She moaned when she felt his tongue seeking entrance into her mouth. She welcomed his lips. Welcomed his touch. Welcomed him.

He opened the sash of her robe and she felt it drop to the floor.

Tara opened her eyes and stopped.

She pulled away and Jax looked at her questioningly.

"We can't do this," she quickly bent down and picked up her robe and secured the sash around her waist. "You have to go. Like now."

She walked around him and sat at the vanity. She noted her swollen lips and she wanted to kick herself for her obvious weakness.

"Tara, if I walk out of here, that's it. I am done."

Tara turned around and looked at him. "You can't just come here and do this to me. Not today of all days."

"Make your choice, Tara. But I am serious. I cannot bear it anymore. Seeing you live the life you are living. Seeing you pretend that you are happy when you are not. I cannot bear not being with you every single day. Not waking up next to you. Not loving you every single day. So you make your choice and make it fast because we are running out of time."

Tara wiped the tears from her face.

"It's not as easy as you make it sound, Jackson."

He walked over and pulled her to her feet.

"It is that simple, babe. It is."

Tara looked into his eyes and for the first time in a long time was at lost as to what to do.


	2. Chapter 1: New Girl, New City

Hey guys!

Sorry for the long absence. The holidays kept me busy and then I have had a couple of stressful weeks. Honestly, this chapter was written a couple of months ago however, I just never got around to posting it. I am getting back to the swing of things and will be posting more often. I am writing a new chapter to Ghosts that we Knew and should be posting it within the next two weeks.

Please R&R! The more, the faster I write... Reviews are my writing inspiration.

Now, how about we explore a bit of a darker Tara?

Chapter 1

 _December 31_ _st_ _, 1997-January 1_ _st_ _, 1998_

He slammed her against the wall making her gasp.

Tara smiled and his lips were on hers immediately afterwards.

They made out and she felt his hand squeeze one of her breasts. She gasped in pleasure as his lips trailed down her collarbone, the loud music drowning the moans of pleasure.

 _God, he is good_ , she thought as he raised her dress so it was around her waist. She felt him pull down her panties and she tried to unbuckle his belt.

This is what life was about. Carpe fucking Diem.

 _10, 9, 8…_

She heard the ripping of the condom foil and Tara looked past him. There was graffiti on the bathroom walls, thousands of scribbles on those dirty walls. He lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist.

 _7,6,5…_

She felt him thrust in her and she moaned. He was fast, but that's what she wanted. Fast, hard, and good, so she closed her eyes and enjoyed the ride.

 _4,3,2…_

He leaned in to kiss her as their hips found a resemblance of a rhythm. She started screaming as she felt the rush of intense pleasure spreading across her body.

 _1…Happy New Yearrrrssss…._

The screams of people outside the bathroom carried over but honestly she didn't give a fuck. She rarely gave a fuck about anything now and days.

She screamed louder as her orgasm took over her senses and a few thrusts later, he was done too.

He panted against her neck and she unwrapped her legs from his waist. She gently pushed him away. She pulled her dress down and picked up her panties from the dirty floor. She threw them in the trash and looked at herself in the mirror.

Tara took her purse from the sink and started reapplying her red lipstick.

"This was fun," he said. Tara looked at him through the mirror. He was tucking himself back into his jeans and was trying to make himself look presentable.

"Yea, sure," she replied. She threw the lipstick back into her purse and fluffed her hair.

She turned to exit the bathroom when she heard him again.

"Wait," he rushed and touched her arm. "What's your name?"

"Why do you care?" she opened the door and the music came rushing in.

"Cause, we just had sex in a bar bathroom on New Years. It would be nice to know the name of the girl who just screwed my brains out," he yelled over the music.

Tara smiled. "Doesn't fucking matter now, does it? You and I will never see each other again. So let's call the last couple of minutes a good ride. A good fuck to start the new year, alright? You don't need to know my name and honestly, I don't care to know yours either. You have a good night, stranger."

She didn't wait to hear what he had to say and walked back to the main bar area.

The music they were play was good. Very good, actually and Tara started swaying to the music. Pretty soon, she had another drink in her hand.

 _Carpe fucking Diem._

 _January 1_ _st_ _, 1997_

It was freezing. Tara waited by the gates, two cups of coffee in her hand.

She started pacing back and forth so to keep warm.

"Tara!"

She stopped and walked quickly to the gates.

"Thank God," she said as Kamal unlocked the gates. "It's freezing."

"It is a bit cold," Kamal got the lock open and pushed on the gates. Tara walked in and waited for him to fully open them. She handed him the cup of coffee and both started walking quickly to his office booth.

"You know, if you were wearing pants instead of a dress, you wouldn't be as cold."

They both entered the booth and Tara sighed in content when she saw the small space heater. "I was in the city."

"Celebrating the New Year, I deduce." Kamal sat on his chair and took a donut from the box he had on top of his desk.

"That's exactly what I was doing. Carpe Diem." Tara took a donut too and took a bite. "I'm going to need a couple of these," she muttered as she swallowed her second bite.

"There's nothing that absorbs booze more than dough." Kamal took a sip of coffee. "You need to slow down a bit, though."

"Nah," replied Tara as she took a sip of her coffee. "All of my life, I have been the good girl. The girl that did everything right and look where it got me."

Kamal shrugged his shoulders. "Well, I guess you know what you want to do with your life. Are you finished yet? It's too cold for you to walk out there by yourself. I'll give you a ride."

Tara took her coffee cup and another donut. She motioned for them to head out. She got into Kamal's van and they both rode out in silence as Tara enjoyed the Boston crème in her hand and her cup of joe.

Kamal parked five minutes later and left the van in idle; Tara hopped off and thanked him. Kamal asked if she wanted him to wait for her and she told him no, that the walk back would do her good. He nodded and Tara watched as he rode off to continue rounding the place.

Tara walked for a few minutes, her stiletto boots making imprints in the beautiful white snow.

She got to the small grave and she crouched down. With her gloved hand, she wiped the snow that fell over night.

"Good morning, my love. Happy New Years. I brought a new book. It's about a very curious monkey."

Tara got on her knees and took out the miniature book from her purse. She started reading, taking her sweet time with each word. After she was done, she stayed for a while until her lips were turning blue from the cold.

She walked back to the entrance of the cemetery and bid goodbye to Kamal, who was back from making rounds around the grounds.

Tara walked a couple blocks to the nearest subway station.

She waited for a while since it was New Years Day and the subway system was running slower than usual.

But it was worth it. The wait was worth it since she got to spend time with her little girl even if her little girl was buried six feet under.

The train ride was long and slow but she sat by the window and the few times the train wasn't underground, she watched the skylines throughout the boroughs. When the choice came as to where to bury Leila, she decided on Woodlawn Cemetery, which was all the way in the northern Bronx. The cemetery was absolutely beautiful and she had taken the hobby of going as much as possible even if it meant two-hour train rides each way.

When she finally got to Brooklyn, it was early afternoon, and the cold was not letting up so she rushed up to the loft.

When she walked in, Luis Mario was sitting watching TV.

"Hey," she placed her keys in the little bowl by the door. She took off her coat and placed it in the hallway closet.

"Hey," he responded from the couch.

"Is Matt back yet?" Tara walked into the kitchen and got a bottle of water from the refrigerator.

"No," he replied his voice icy.

Tara looked at Luis Mario. "Got something on your mind?"

Luis Mario turned off the television and got up from the couch. "Not at all," he responded and walked into his room and slammed his door shut.

Tara took a sip of water and walked to her room slamming her own door.

She stripped her clothes off and got into the shower for a while. She had a long night and as the hot water hit her body, she felt her stiff muscles loosen. She stayed under the hot spray for a good half an hour, washing away the dirt and grime of the city.

Shutting off the water, Tara got out of the shower and wrapped herself in a towel.

She walked into her room and saw Matt lying on her bed.

"Long night?"

Tara unwrapped her towel from her body and started drying her hair with it. "You could say that," she responded as she walked around her room.

"We missed you last night. Mr. Diaz made pernil and Jimena made this rice with peas that was superb. I swear Latinos could fucking throw down in the kitchen. What did you do?"

"Went to a club in Tribeca and then walked to Soho and went to a bar there. Ran in the New Year in that bar." Tara took out a pair of sweats and a t-shirt out. She put on the clothes as Matt watched on.

"And that's all?" Matt kicked off his shoes and crossed his feet at the ankles.

"Fucked some guy in the bar bathroom. Pretty good sex." Tara started brushing her hair, getting all the knots out.

"Hmmm…" responded Matt.

They remained silent for a bit and when Tara was done she went to her bed and laid down.

She turned and put her head on Matt's shoulder.

"So, the sex was good?" he whispered as he stroked her still wet hair.

Tara's finger played with the buttons on his shirt. "It was good at the moment. It made me feel good, it made me forget for a bit," she whispered.

"Did you get a name, this time?" Matt whispered.

"No," she closed her eyes. "I didn't want to know."

"Because it would make it more real, right?"

Tara nodded and hugged closer to Matt.

"You know, this guy would be number five."

"I know, Mattie. I know. But I just want to forget for a while."

"I get it, Mopey." They stayed quiet for a bit.

"Luis Mario is pissed at me."

"He has the right to."

Tara opened her eyes and looked at a Matt questionably.

"Oh come on, Tara. That guy is madly in love with you yet you are treating him with uttermost indifference. Not only that but here he has to watch you go out and party and do whatever you want. And he is still on the sidelines. Watching you do you. Plus, you missed out on family dinner yesterday."

Tara rolled her eyes. "It was just New Years Eve dinner."

"And Christmas and Thanksgiving."

Tara closed her eyes again. "I just can't be around them and pretend everything is ok. I lost my daughter."

"Yea, I get that but you are behaving like a total tool."

Tara giggled. "Did you just call me a tool?"

Matt swatted her ass. "I sure did." He kissed her on her head. "But in all seriousness, I know Leila just left us and you have every right to grieve the best way you see fit. No judgment from me…"

"I feel a big but coming my way…"

"Yes, a huge one. You are scaring us a bit, Tara. Everyone. The partying and staying up late and…"

"The five men…" she finished off.

"No one knows about that but me."

Tara looked at Matt. "Really? You didn't tell Luis Mario?"

Matt shook his head. "Not my business to tell."

"Thanks," she whispered.

"If you ever want to talk about Leila…"

Tara shook her head. "No. I don't want to talk about her or the funeral or the burial. Ever."

"Ok." Matt continued stroking her hair.

"I have to apologize to him, right?"

"That would nice, Tara."

"Does it have to be now?"

Tara closed her eyes and felt the fatigue hitting her like a ton of bricks.

"Nah, we have family dinner later today. Do it then. This bed is nice."

Tara nodded and felt herself drift to sleep.

 _March 17_ _th_ _, 1998, very late_

Tara leaned over the bar and grabbed the nearest bottle she could reach.

She heard cheering from behind her and Tara giggled. She was probably giving them quite the view.

She turned around. "WHO WANTS SHOTS?" she yelled and there was more cheering.

The music was loud and the drinks were flowing and she was happy.

She put her lips on the bottle and drank. She drank and drank and danced.

Time was suspended in the air. Tara opened her eyes and looked at the dimmed lights as she spun around. She closed her eyes and swayed to the music taking another long drink of the bottle of tequila.

She felt arms around her waist and she continued swaying.

"Kiss me, I am Irish," whispered the man in her ear. Tara smiled and turned around. She draped her arms around the guys' neck and they swayed in synced. He had a nice smile and he leaned down and kissed her.

And she kissed back. The bottle fell from her hand and he actually picked her up in the middle of the dance floor and she wrapped her legs around his waist.

Time hung in suspension.

One minute she was in the middle of the dance floor and the next she was being taken to an office. Apparently, the guy was the manager of the club or something like that.

His name was Tim or Robert or Sam or something. He tried to make conversation but Tara just wanted to have a good time. She took off her top and that stopped his yapping.

She leaned back on his desk and he took off her boots and her pants soon followed. She closed her eyes and shut off her brain. She shut off the images of her baby dying. She shut off all the noise that constantly followed her. Only pleasure. Life was about pleasure and pain and she was choosing pleasure. Intense pleasure.

She moaned when she felt his tongue in her cunt. She opened her eyes and looked at the ceiling. He had posters hanging from the ceiling. Posters of Harley bikes.

Tara closed her eyes and tried to stop thinking. She thought of the pleasure.

But her traitorous brain always failed her when she needed it to shut off.

His face came to view. Him sitting on his bike, waiting for her outside school, his famous smirk permanently placed on his face whenever he was with her.

Tara gasped as she felt the tears burning.

She wouldn't cry. Not when this man was going down on her.

But images kept coming fast and furious. Tara felt her lips tremble and she sat up.

"Please stop," she slurred. She pushed his head from in between her thighs.

"Why? What's wrong?"

He stood and Tara moved off the desk and started looking for her clothes.

"Listen, I brought you here cause I thought you wanted this."

Tara quickly located her clothes and put them on.

"This was a mistake. I need to go," she looked around the office while she avoided looking at the man. "My purse. Have you seen my purse?" she felt her heart constrict in her chest, the images still coming.

Her and Jax in their mellow reading and laughing and making love. The night that she got pregnant. She waiting for him so they could both escape Charming and him never showing up. Leila small and fragile body. The funeral.

Her breathing started coming fast and she felt the tears rolling down her cheeks.

"Hey, are you ok?" the guy put a hand on her shoulder.

She shrugged it off. "I NEED MY FUCKING PURSE."

The guy told her she didn't have it with her when she came into the office. Tara finished fixing herself and ran out of there.

"Please stop…" she muttered to herself.

She weaved her way through the people at the club and she looked for her coat check ticket in her jeans pocket. She got her coat and ran out of the place.

Tara walked quickly through the cold March night, the tears blurring her vision. She was somewhere in Alphabet city and she didn't have her wallet. She had a few bucks inside her coat pocket but not enough to get anywhere in the city.

So she walked around, with her tears freezing on her face. She walked around until she found an opened bodega. She walked in and asked to use their phone. She dialed a number she never thought she would dial.

 _March 18_ _th_ _, 1998, past-midnight_

She sat on the cold park bench, shivering as the wind picked up. She knew she shouldn't be sitting alone in a New York City park past midnight but she had no choice. Luckily, the tears had stopped about 30 minutes ago.

Tara felt numb on the inside. She was about to be twenty and all she felt was numbness.

"It's not safe for you here."

She looked up and saw her father walking towards her, his thin coat barely keeping him warm.

"Thanks for coming," she stood and walked towards him meeting him halfway.

"The train took a while to come. I didn't want to disturb Mr. Diaz for cash, so I just took the train."

"That's fine. Let's just go back."

Tara started walking.

"Are you drunk?" he asked as he caught up with her.

"I was drunk. I am just a little bit tipsy right now."

"Oh ok."

God, it shouldn't feel so awkward to walk with your own damn father, she thought.

"You know, in AA, they tell us that it's when we hit rock bottom that things get hard. But that if we focus, we could get out of the hole."

Tara scoffed. "Just save it. I am nearly twenty years old and it's a little bit too late for Daddy speeches."

"How about we find a diner and we sit and talk. Warm up a little bit before we head out to Brooklyn. Or maybe you want to crash in Mr. Diaz's house? I mean, Jimena has one room and I have the couch but I could give up the couch."

"I'll just go back to Brooklyn. It would be easier for all parties involved."

"How about that diner, then?" asked Derek, the desperation clear on his voice.

Tara stopped walking. "Why are you doing this? Why are you here?"

Derek shoved his hands in his coat pocket. "I just want to be here for you. After all you been through, I thought that maybe, just maybe, I could be there for you for once."

"A little bit too late for that, don't you think?" Tara started walking.

"I know I failed you before. I know I was a crap father. But I thought, new place, fresh start."

"Right… Great thinking Dad! Come running to the rescue right when my daughter was dying. Fuck what happened in Charming. Fuck the years of neglect." Tara walked faster feeling the anger boiling.

"In AA, they always say we have to make amends. I am trying to make amends here."

Tara turned around abruptly. "You want to make amends? Now?" she screamed. "Don't you see that your words wouldn't matter to me? Not anymore. Nothing matters to me anymore. Not after my baby died in my arms because of that fucking animal. That animal that fucking disappeared and who hasn't been held responsible for what he did. Every fucking day, I have to wake up and look at myself in the mirror knowing that I failed my child by not protecting her from him. I let him kick me in my stomach. I didn't fight hard enough. I didn't scream loud enough. I didn't do enough. I had to watch my baby struggle for the few days she had in this world and I had to make the decision to have her disconnected so I could stop her suffering. Do you know how hard that was? How much I hate myself for making that decision? Every fucking time I look at myself in the mirror, all I see is a failure of a mother. Don't you see that I am not the same person who left Charming? Can't you see anything?" she cried.

"Tara…" Derek said and he inched closer to her. "Tara, I know this is hard…"

"YOU DON'T KNOW SHIT. YOU CHECKED OUT WHEN YOU HAD TO BE A PARENT SO DON'T COME HERE AND TRY TO GIVE ME ADVISE WHEN YOU COULDN'T EVEN BE A FATHER TO ME YEARS AGO."

"Tara, please."

"JUST DON'T…" she yelled. "JUST STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME."

She turned and walked away from him. Away from it all.

 _March 18_ _th_ _, 1998, 45 minutes later_

She was back at club. She told the bouncer that the manager was waiting for her.

A few minutes later, she was taken up to his office.

"Came back for more?" He was being sarcastic.

Tara pushed back her pain and focused on her anger. "Did you find my purse?"

He smirked. "Maybe."

Tara walked into the office and locked the door. "Give back my purse, Tim."

The guy crossed his arms over his chest. "It's Eric, actually."

"Whatever," replied Tara as she stepped closer to him as she shrugged off her coat and let it fall to the floor. "All I care about if my purse and the orgasm you are going to give me."

"Is that right?" Eric said as he started unbuttoning his shirt. "Do you have the waterworks under control?"

"Let's forget that and get down to business."

"You are all about the business aren't you?"

Tara took off her shirt and started unbuckling her belt. "I'm all about the business, Tim," Tara teased.

"Eric," he smirked. "Learned it cause you will be screaming it in a bit."

"Well, now you are talking," Tara responded before taking the last few steps between them.

She looked into his eyes one last time before letting go.

It was all about the pleasure; she was going to fuck the pain away.

 _April 5_ _th_ _, 1997, mid-morning_

Tara felt like shit. She lay down on her bathroom floor.

She closed her eyes and must have fallen asleep because the next time she opened her eyes, Matt was lying next to her.

"Rough morning?" he asked.

"You could say that," Tara sat up and felt everything spin so she laid back down. "Fuck," she said.

"Tara, I love you."

"Me too," she whispered and closed her eyes.

"I love you, but you need to stop. This is not healthy. Getting drunk every night then going to the cemetery before coming here and passing out due to exhaustion. You are rail thin and look like an anorexic, brunette Kate Moss. Even your tits and ass are deflating and I would know cause I have seen you naked tons of times. Everyone is scared. Your Dad keeps cornering me every family dinner asking what is going on with you. And I have to lie. Cause I can't tell him that his only daughter is getting drunk on a daily bases and fucking half of New York City while she is at it. Mr. Diaz keeps lighting candles for you. Like these white, long things that he gets when he goes to church every Sunday with your father. Then there is Jimena, who kind of needs a chick to help her with stuff cause lets be honest, as gay as I am, I can't talk to a teenager about PMS and tampons and boys. I mean I can talk to her about boys but it would be in a bad, slutty way and I don't think Luis Mario would appreciate that. Speaking of Luis Mario, he is fucking this girl down the block, who I don't really like too much. Her name is Eva and she is an obnoxious control freak who is probably already planning a wedding with our Latino God. And Katie called again from Utah. Rehab is going well for her and she wants to talk to you to apologize and beg for your forgiveness. I know you hate her but I think forgiving her will get you along way. And Dr. Coco called too. And Belize. My rant is over."

"Good," whispered Tara. A few tears slipped down her eyes. "I am so lost, Matt," she said as she looked at the bathroom ceiling.

"I know you feel like you are dying…"

"No, Matt… I am dying. Every part of me hurts and sometimes I think that death would be better than living without her. So I choose to numb it all. Just numb the pain because if I choose to live with it, I will die. I will die, slowly and surely."

"I wouldn't let that happen, Tara. If you die, part of me will too. You are my best friend in the whole world. Actually, you are my only friend."

"How about Luis Mario?"

"He is like my brother. My annoyingly hot, surrogate brother, who is straight as an arrow," Matt joked. "But in all seriousness, I can't live without you. When I get married, you are my best woman. And when I have kids, you'll be their Godmother and keep them from being completely nuts. And when we are old and in a nursing home, we are going to sit in our respective wheelchairs and joke and laugh until we die together. Nice and old and comfy in our beds."

Tara sobbed. "I'm dying here, Matt. It hurts so much."

Matt sat her up and engulfed her in his arms.

For the first time since Leila died, Tara cried for her baby.

 _April 6_ _th_ _,1998, past midnight_

"You want to slow down there."

Tara just sucked harder, the brown liquid burning her throat.

"Come on, babe. Slow down," said Eric and he tried to take the bottle from her hands.

Tara released the bottle and glared at Eric. "Don't fucking call me babe. That's what he use to call me."

"Who?"

"Don't matter. It doesn't fucking matter, anymore." Tara snatched the bottle back from Eric's hand and he just shook his head.

Tara took another sip and looked at Eric. "Do you want to…?"

"We already had sex twice."

Tara rolled her eyes and stood up. "You aren't fun anymore. It's barely 1 o'clock and you already want to throw in the towel."

"Why? Just cause I don't want to fuck you for a third time? I am not superman, you know. Plus, if fun is what you are looking for, I have the solution."

Eric stood up and walked shirtless to his desk. Tara leaned back on the couch as looked at him as he looked through his drawer. He searched for a bit until he found what he was looking for.

He pulled a little baggie with pills.

Tara sat up. "I don't do drugs."

"It isn't coke or heroin or any of that shit out there. These are just a pick me ups."

"I don't think so." Tara started pulling up her jeans and slipped into her stilettos. "I know I drink and party but drugs is where I draw the line. You could call it whatever you want, those are drugs."

She swayed a bit on her feet as she stood. "I should get going. This was fun and all but I am leaving."

"Fine! Wait. No ecstasy then." Eric actually threw the little baggie in his trash bin. He walked over to her and put his arms around her waist. "Stay. We could drink some more and out to the floor and dance and then come back here and have third round sex."

"And then what?"

"When we go again," he nuzzled her neck.

Tara pulled away. "And that's exactly the problem."

She picked up her satchel from the floor and draped it across her body. "Eric, this has been fun, but I am done. I need to be done. Tonight will be my last night doing all of this. I came here to make something out of myself. I did not come here to become another version of my father."

She picked up the bottle. "If you don't mind, I will be taking this with me. Bye."

 _April 6_ _th_ _,1998, around 3am_

Tara threw out the empty bottle. She heard the glass burst and she giggled as she continued to walk. She knew she had to get home but Tara just wanted to walk around and feel the cool April rain on her face. Tara stumbled down the street for a bit. She needed to get home.

The rain started to come down harder and her vision became blurrier. She saw the sign to the nearest subway station and she started walking towards it her steps becoming heavier by the minute.

Fuck, she was drunk. Too drunk. As the rain came down, she started going down the steps and that's when she felt the Earth spin under her feet.

Soon everything was black.


End file.
